


The Sorceress' Secret

by torviironside



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torviironside/pseuds/torviironside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story in which Yennefer divulges a coveted secret to her lover, Geralt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sorceress' Secret

**Author's Note:**

> A random AU that popped in my head - wrote it during work to cure boredom and because I enjoy impossible AU's. c:

"Geralt..." Yennefer had been watching him speak to his chestnut mare, Roach - also the name of all the horses he'd owned previously - with a bemused expression on her face, her gloved hands planted firmly on her hips. The urgency she had been feeling built like a pressure upon her chest until she felt like it might suffocate her if she did not tell him. " _Geralt_!" Yennefer snapped at him, watching with satisfaction when the Witcher's fiery, cat-like eyes flickered to her, slightly taken aback by the ferocity she'd packed in his name.

"Cirilla is your daughter." The words were flat as they left the sorceress' lips, not quite the effect she'd been hoping for. The Witcher's expression was amused and there was a coy arch to his white brows. 

"She's only my daughter when she's in trouble, right?" Geralt had misunderstood her words Yennefer quickly realized - but the fault was solely her own. Still, the sorceress couldn't help but the tepid smile she gave him. On _that_ the White Wolf would hear no utterance of disagreement from her. Ciri did have Geralt's knack for finding trouble. Or perhaps trouble was simply drawn to them - it was hard to make the distinction. Regardless of the reason it didn't invalidate the truth of his rhetorical question.

"Ciri is your daughter, Geralt." Yennefer tried once more, her voice soft spoke with unmistaken and unbridled affection for both the subject and the man she was speaking to. 

"Yen," There was much left unspoken in his tone, making it clear that he was still confused as to why she kept speaking those words. 

"Geralt, look at Ciri and tell me you do not see my face and your own in hers. Tell me you have never thought the question, that the suspicion never crept up on you."

"Yen, what your saying is _impossible_. I saw Ciri's mother pregnant with her... I claimed the unborn child with the Law of Surprise."

"You claimed a stillborn. It was the perfect cover and for a while, it saw Ciri a home, it saw that she was taken care of, that she was _safe_." Until it hadn't been; but that was neither here nor there momentarily. Geralt's eyes, Yennefer saw, were staring out at something over her head, long lost; perhaps wanting to believe her words but not quite being able to grasp them. It was hard for her to tell. The mutations were meant to strip Witcher's of their humanity, of their emotions - clearly from what she'd seen of the Witchers of Kaer Morhen that was not the case - an old wives tale; but there _were_ times when trying to read Geralt was like trying to read a blank page leaving her both frustrated and all the same intrigued. 

"Maybe," The White Wolf allowed, the deep timber of his voice thick with an emotion Yennefer was surprised that she could not identify before he turned his back to her, the hilts of his double swords catching in the fading sunlight as it set in the horizon. 

"Come talk to me later, Geralt, when you're ready," Yennefer reached out and touched his arm, feeling the strong and hardened muscles of his arm beneath his sleeve, beneath the leather of her gloves. "I'll explain everything." The sorceress promised before she turned and headed back inside the Witcher's school.


End file.
